


Flowers and Candy

by harleygirl2648



Series: Hannibal/Addams Family AU [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Addams Family Fusion, Blood, First Meetings, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal has Feelings, M/M, Murder Kink, Will Knows, Will Loves Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleygirl2648/pseuds/harleygirl2648
Summary: Set before It's My Favorite Story: Hannibal and Will met over a murder.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Little present for lillaseptember!

 

*******

Boredom was a dangerous state of being for anyone in the Lecter household.

 

Jack was bored more often these days, since Bella had passed into the next life. Oh, they conjured her up for visits every so often, but it was quieter around the house than usual. He’d spend his time making potions in the basement and playing with the potions in the basement and wrestle with the alligator.

 

Alana’s boredom came about in the form of occasionally destroying her room with her trainset. Another habit would be setting little bombs and forgetting when they were set to go off. This has led to a bomb exploding on Frederick more than once while he was dusting it. He would groan, it meant more for him to clean than originally planned.

 

Hannibal, however. Hannibal’s boredom was torture.

 

Not just for him, but for Alana, who had to deal with it. He’d hang upside-down from the chandelier, and lounge around the house. Occasionally he would come home with a little blood on his suit and would make dinner. He wouldn’t outright sigh in despair, but his moping revealed Poe on a bad day and Alana had grown tired of it over the years.

 

So much so that this time she poked him with the fire poker as he had assumed his usual place on the chandelier that day. He had rolled his eyes without rolling them, it was evident in his body language, and a signature move of his.

 

“Alana, I’m busy,” he sighed, locking eyes with the skull he was holding in his hand, trying to remember who it was.

 

“You know what your problem is?” she asked, ignoring his comment.

 

“Enlighten me.”

 

“You don’t have anyone to talk to.”

 

“I have you,” Hannibal replied, turning the skull over in his hands, tightening his tie and tossing it over his right shoulder so it wouldn't be hanging in front of his eyes. Alana rolled her own eyes.

 

“Yes, I know, but it isn't the same. I don’t think the way you do, and what you need is someone to connect with.”

 

“I don’t ‘connect’ with people, Alana, no one understands me. I’m content to be on my own.”

 

Alana poked him again. “You’re a good liar, you know?”

 

“Of course I do, I pride myself on it.”

 

“Will you get off this stupid thing, Hannibal? Aren’t you supposed to visit your crime scene today for the police this afternoon?”

 

He sighed, then lowered himself off, dusting off his suit jacket. “It’s terribly dull, you know.”

 

“Well, it gets you out of my hair so you won’t complain to me when my dynamite knocks over one little book stack in your library.”

 

Hannibal gave her a slight smile before he left. “I’ll do it when I get back.”

* * *

 

“Lecter, it’s a... _pleasure_ to see you,” the  stated as a greeting, making no effort to hide his distaste. Hannibal made a mental note that he was next on the recipe list.

 

He had felt so irritable lately, the smallest things were bothering him, he knew that it was because Alana was right. He was bored and nobody was able to appreciate his work.

 

He did enjoy feeling superior when he went to these amusing crime scenes as they struggled to figure out the motives. They never even got close to the truth.

 

“Oh, would you look at what the department dragged in. Will Graham and his mutt,” the coroner muttered as he knelt beside the body. Hannibal looked up from his own thoughts and was pleasantly distracted by the sight before him.

 

A man, loose curls framing his face the way painters would spend months perfecting in a portrait. He pulled the glasses off of his nose and rubbed his temple, while a dog happily ran around his feet. As he cleaned the glasses, he looked up and saw Hannibal. They locked eyes.

 

Hannibal felt something he’d never felt before as he looked into the man’s deep blue eyes ( _Will_ , his name was _Will_ ): an... _acceptance_.

 

“Well, Graham, what the hell is this?” the coroner spat. “I can’t even guess a time of death, he’s all mangled up.”

 

“It’s not mangled,” Will said lowly, finally looking away and turning his eyes to the body, kneeling down beside it. “It’s... _art_.”

 

“Art? Graham, it’s a dead plumber with his chest cut open and stuffed with flowers and mushrooms. That doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“It does,” Will murmured, tracing his hands over the open wound and the matter stuffed inside.

 

Hannibal was inexplicably drawn to him, moving closer and kneeling beside the corpse as well.

 

“What do you see?” Hannibal asked. Will looked at him again, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth before returning his attention to the corpse.

 

“Wolf’s bane, poisonous, for misanthropy, _disappointment_ in the world around them. Fungi, for loneliness, for solitude. Snapdragons, for concealment of identity and  _elegance_.”

 

“It’s a body, how elegant can it be? And why use plants?” the coroner groaned, obviously bored with the whole explanation. Hannibal usually would have started considering what sauce he would pair well with, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Will.

 

Will looked up, locking eyes with Hannibal again, his smile growing wider.

 

“Because he wants someone to understand him.”

 

Hannibal swallowed slowly, not enough for anyone to notice. But _oh_.

 

_Oh._

 

This was _different_. _Will_ was different. It was _fascinating_.

 

Hannibal had always prided himself on keeping himself in complete control of his thoughts and emotions, but he felt his heart physically speed up in eagerness when Will walked towards him later, away from the mess of officers and personnel. He didn’t even mind the dog running over and excitedly sniffing his shoes.

 

“Winston,” Will chided, clicking his tongue. “Not to strangers.”

 

“Oh, it’s perfectly alright,” Hannibal said, scratching the top of the dog’s head.

 

“Usually doesn’t trust strangers,” Will said, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes. Hannibal exhaled slowly.

 

“Perhaps he doesn’t regard me as a stranger,” Hannibal replied, staring back at Will, before he realized he hadn’t introduced himself. “Hannibal Lecter.”

 

“Will Graham,” Will introduced back, staring back at him before looking away. “Sorry, I-I have problems with eye contact.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Eyes are distracting, you can see too much of a person. Usually I don’t want it, I see enough. But _you_ ,” he paused, before letting himself smile. “I can _see_ you.”

 

Hannibal felt taken aback. This should be a warning sign, he felt around his pocket for his knife but curiosity won out in the end. He couldn't resist asking him.

 

“Tell me, Will: what do you see in me?”

 

Will looked back at the corpse now covered in a sheet to avoid exploitation from the press. He leaned closer to Hannibal.

 

“ _Art_ ,” he whispered simply. “I _love_ your work.”

 

And with that, he clicked his tongue and Winston scurried back to his master’s feet. Will nodded a goodbye to Hannibal before walking off into the distance.

 

Hannibal felt gutted, weak at the knees, overcome with emotion he'd never been able to feel before that had suddenly hit him full-force. It was-

 

it was-

 

_delightful._

* * *

 

It was only four days later when Hannibal was called to another crime scene. He was immediately drawn to this cased jumped at the invitation. Perhaps Will would be there. He hoped he would.

 

He’d been planning his next tableau, funnily enough, so this murder had not been his. However, it appeared quite similar.

 

“ _More_ flowers,” the coroner groaned at Hannibal. “This is getting ridiculous.”

 

Hannibal said nothing, merely noting the types of flowers and looking up to see Will beside him.

 

“Tell _me_ , this time, Hannibal,” Will said, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “What do you see?”

 

Hannibal looked over the display in front of him, considering the message the killer was sending.

 

“The top of the head, removed, filled with pansies. Pansies, for thoughts. Chest, filled with yellow roses, for strong feelings. And toadflax, rare around the area, homegrown, perhaps. Represents…”

 

Hannibal’s words disappeared from his mouth. He was overcome with feelings that welled up from deep inside of him.

 

“...Represents feelings for another,” he finished, standing up and adjusting his cufflinks, clearing his throat. “But a different killer than earlier in the week.”

 

“Two?” the coroner sighed “A match made in hell.”

 

“Yes,” Hannibal murmured, daring to look over at Will, who was feeding Winston a treat. “Yes, it would seem so.”

 

Hannibal had always known exactly what to say to get the result he wanted. But when Will made his way over and smiled, the words fell out of his mouth before passing through his mind.

 

“Your aftershave is atrocious,” is what he ended up saying. Will’s face scrunched up in confusion before laughing.

 

“Observant, Hannibal. Did you _smell_ me?”

 

“...Not on purpose, initially,” Hannibal said, finding himself smiling as well. “But apparently I couldn’t stop myself from my impulses.”

 

Will’s smile was glorious, it was evident he didn’t do it often.

 

“Really? I couldn’t seem to control _mine_ either,” he said innocently, gesturing over to the body. Hannibal was desperate (he was _never_ desperate, what was Will  _doing_ to him?) to ask if the murder was for him when Will turned back to him.

 

“What else do you smell?” he asked, curiosity accenting his features.

 

Hannibal closed his eyes and inhaled, feeling peace, acceptance, _understanding_. He opened his eyes again.

 

“Dog, for one.”

 

Will laughed again. Every single musical piece Hannibal had ever composed sounded like tonedeaf squalling compared to the sound of his laugh.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“Whiskey, a good brand. River water, sweat.” Hannibal paused. “Darkness.”

 

Will’s eyebrow raised in interest. “And _what_ , exactly, does darkness smell like?”

 

“It varies,” Hannibal answered, unable to tear his eyes away from Will’s face. “I liken it to black liquorice. Some are repelled by it, far too bitter and strong to handle. Others, such as myself, are quite fond of it. They can appreciate the hidden sweetness underneath the bitterness.”

 

Will’s smile was enchanting. “Good. I happen to like black liquorice, too.”

 

Hannibal gestured towards the body. “Was _this_ -”

 

“For you?” Will asked. “Yes. Would you like to know why?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Hannibal breathed out, afraid to say any more, for fear of being completely exposed in front of Will. But would he truly mind that?

 

No. No, he wouldn't, and what a beautiful and terrible feeling it was.

 

Will leaned closer. “Because of four days ago, when I saw your display. I could _see_ you, behind your mask. And you can understand _me_. So I suppose we _are_ quite the pair.”

 

They were leaning so close, Hannibal was about to close the space between them because he couldn't stand how distracting Will’s lips were when the coroner had to open his mouth.

 

“Graham, are you going to keep getting in Lecter’s personal space or actually help?”

 

Anger clouded Will’s expression for a brief moment before it faded, the calm before the storm. Hannibal wanted more of it, wanted to see behind the face Will put on when he was out here.

 

“Excuse me,” Will said softly, moving away. _No, he wasn’t going to get away, not now, ever_. Hannibal caught his arm, pulling him back. Will was surprised as he stared into Hannibal's eyes.

 

“He lives alone,” Hannibal whispered. “Takes a walk around two in the morning in the forest behind the house after smoking. I’ve been meaning- well, pardon me, would you-”

 

Will shushed him gently. Hannibal had never appreciated being shushed in his life before this, before _him_.

 

“I’ll meet you there,” he whispered back, winking before walking back over to the coroner. Hannibal found himself truly smiling, out of sheer delight, instead of smugness. It was a welcome change.

* * *

 

There was a change in Hannibal this week, Alana noted. Ever since he came back from the crime scene four days ago he seemed...different.

 

For one, he wasn’t up on the chandelier anymore, he was constantly at his desk, sketching. She couldn’t see what, exactly, but from spying from the top of the bookcase, it was definitely a male figure.

 

She caught him leaving the house around two in the morning, in one of his best suits. _Dressy, for going hunting,_ she thought.

 

Usually, he came back in an hour or less, relatively clean. That morning he came home three hours later than usual, completely _drenched_ in blood.

 

That wasn’t the worrying part, however. The worrying part was the absolutely foreign expression on her brother's face.

 

His face was shining with what had apparently taken place, and was humming something.

 

“What happened?” Alana called out from her place at the top of the stairs. Hannibal looked up, completely surprised to see her. He adjusted his cufflinks again.

 

“ _Beautiful_ ,” he said, just to himself, but Alana heard him anyway as he came up the stairs to go change.

* * *

 

“Will?” Bedelia asked from her armchair, glancing up from the book with an unimpressed look. “What did you do this time?”

 

Will adjusted his collar, moved the brown curls of hair that had spots of blood dotting it. “Oh, nothing.”

 

“Father’s asleep, you can clean your clothes now if you want before the blood sets. You know, you look different. Less stressed. How long since your last migraine?”

 

“Five days,” Will smiled, dreamily, something Bedelia hardly ever saw.

 

“Are you hurt? That’s a lot of blood.”

 

“Stabbed, yes, hurt, no.”

 

“You-”

 

“I cut him back, goodnight, Bedelia.”

* * *

 

 

Will’s supervisor rubbed his hand over his face, already frustrated. His coroner was dead, stuffed full of flowers, and the assistant coroner was slow. He was relieved when Will showed up, Hannibal Lecter close behind, a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Finally, Will, what are we looking at? Is this the first killer or the second?”

 

“I can’t tell,” Will lied, kneeling down beside the body, Hannibal copying the motion. “But it’s a similar pattern, don't you think, Hannibal?”

 

“I do, Will,” Hannibal replied, staring at their work. “Dark red roses, for passion and love.”

 

“Hydrangeas, for the heartfelt gratitude for being understood,” Will smiled. He reached forward with one gloved hand and removed a black strand from the chest cavity.

 

“What's that?” the supervisor asked.

 

“Black liquorice,” Will replied. His supervisor sighed and walked back over to the new coroner, who was waiting to give his report. Will and Hannibal stood up and made their way over to Hannibal’s car for some privacy.

 

Will l grinned as he broke the bloodstained liquorice braid in half. He offered half to Hannibal, who only gestured to Will. He smiled and opened his mouth, letting Hannibal feed him the tainted sweet. He fed the other piece to Hannibal in the same fashion.

 

“Contaminating a crime scene, Will?” he asked as they watched the investigative team scurry over the scene likes ants. Will only laughed.

 

“There’s enough for evidence, no use in wasting all of it,” he replied, licking his lips. Hannibal smiled, brushing a curl out of his face. He enjoyed the flashbacks he had of those curls covered in blood, the _smell_ of it as the killed together, the _taste_ of it on Will’s lips, the-

 

“Lost in thought?” Will teased, letting Hannibal take his hand and kiss it. “I know a little something about that.”

 

“How fortunate, as the thoughts I am lost in all have to do with you,” Hannibal smiled, kissing his hand again. “I have never felt so strongly about _anything_ , the way I feel about you. I love you.”

 

“I just killed with you last night, you already love me?”

 

“I loved you the minute you looked at me and saw right through to my black, dark core,” Hannibal murmured. “And I don’t think I could ever let you go, now.”

 

“You made that very clear last night,” Will smirked. Hannibal's’ eyes gleamed as he ran his other hand over Will’s stomach. “It’s going to be a scar.”

 

“Mine is scarring as well,” Hannibal smirked back. He kissed Will then, and smiled into it as Will returned it. However, the blissful moment was interrupted by Winston jumping up to paw at Hannibal’s leg and yipping.

 

Hannibal broke away with an exaggerated sigh, then pulled a handmade treat out of his pocket. Winston took it and wagged his tail with excitement as he devoured it. Will laughed outright, and Hannibal found himself laughing back.

 

“Liver?”

 

“How long before they notice it’s missing?”

 

“You are a devil,” Will murmured as he kissed Hannibal again. “That’s why I love you, too.”

 

As soon as those words left Will’s mouth and floated into his own, Hannibal knew that he would do anything for the man in front of him. _Anything_.

 

“Shall I meet you next Saturday night, the old veterinarian's home?”

 

“It’s a date. Bring the linoleum knife," Will breathed out before Hannibal kissed him again, trying to taste liquorice and blood and everything _Will_.

 

 _This **is** a match made in hell,_  Hannibal thought, though not for long as Wil's arm snaked around his neck. _And sealed in blood._

 

 

 

 

_(He would tell Will about the silly arranged engagement Jack had set him up with some Bedelia Whatshername later.)_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Don't forget to leaves kudos and lots of comments!
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr! http://somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds.tumblr.com


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